Thinking to feel
by Sinister Tomato
Summary: They can't speak what they feel. They can only think. But which has more regret? Saying their feelings or not? RoyRiza. Rated for last chapter. Complete.
1. Riza and the shooting range

Disclaimer: I don't own Full metal alchemist. I only own this story.

Notes: I just finished reading the book on the flame alchemist. This would be the beginning of episode 37 where Fury, Havoc, and Farman take notes on Roy for the assessment. It's funnier in the book. There are more notes by those three. It also implicates Hawkeye's anger of Roy's date when she destroys the shooting range. So I wrote something based on that. This is the first chapter to…maybe three parts.

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Click.

Riza Hawkeye was up for another round of targets. She aimed carefully and shot each target down repeatedly. Dead center. She was taking out her anger on the shooting range. Not fair to the overseer of it but she didn't care. She walked over to the next cubicle as she reloaded her gun with special bullets. These special bullets were special because they left big holes. Very big holes.

Bang.

The sound echoed and repeated as she shot each target. Dead center. Always. She was a sniper. And a damn good one. She worked as a sniper in the Ishvar war. She had two jobs in the war. The main was the sniper. The one she took upon herself was the protection of somebody else.

Bang.

That somebody else was also her superior. And to this day she still protected him. He infuriated her on many occasions because he never did his work until the deadline was near. But he always finished in time. Many things about him infuriated her. Not only his work but his life in general.

Bang.

Especially his private life. It's not like people never knew about it. He was a playboy. Girls fawned over him wherever he walked. And he always kept cool and smiled. It was his way of dealing with it. He always appeared to enjoy it. He often received gifts from the women. This morning it was cookies. He was eating cookies for breakfast.

Bang.

She didn't know why she was so worked up in the first place. Why should she care what her superior did on his nights out? Her job was simple. Protect the flame alchemist at whatever cost. Even if it meant her life.

Bang.

Her self-designated job was not that simple. Especially when it was in Ishvar. There were times where she couldn't keep an eye on him. They were each thrown into different areas. She was always the first of the two to come back. His clothing was usually burnt and covered in ash but he didn't seem to mind. He would skip a meal and head to his tent where he usually engaged in an argument with the crimson alchemist, Kimbley. The two most explosive alchemists engaging in fights was usually not a good idea. But they never went very far.

There was a time during the war where she had to deliver a message to the flame alchemist. He had just come back from a nearby building that was used to treat the wounded. According to others, he had killed two doctors. The Rockbells. They were decent people that helped friend and foe. But they were sentenced to die because the foe they helped attacked the military.

She tried to keep her emotions in check when she went through the tent. The major was on the top bunk, a gun poised in his hand directed at his right temple. He seemed calm but she could clearly see he was trembling. Then she did the only thing she could do; she ran up to the major and knocked the gun to the floor. The major stared in surprise but he turned his gaze away.

She tried to remain calm but even she had her limits. She took hold of his collar and yanked. He was forced to stand. She glared into his eyes for a moment before swinging her palm onto his cheek.

She _slapped_ him.

"What the hell do you think your doing?"

"Wasn't it obvious?"

"You can't just shoot yourself in the head because you killed two people."

"Why not?"

"Because you were only following orders."

"Doctor Marco said the same thing..."

"I have to follow orders as well. Your not the only one that killed innocents."

"Not everyone is as strong as you when it comes to dealing with it..."

"Then do something about it."

She could tell those words hit him harder than her slap. She realized her mistake in addressing him in this manner and was about to apologize but a soft voice cut her off. Slightly hoarse and almost a whisper. But she caught it.

"Thank you." He stopped shaking.

_Bang._

And he did do something about it. After the war, he seemed to disappear off the face of the Earth. Then he suddenly came back with a goal. A goal to change the way things were run. And she knew she would follow him until...Well, she didn't know. But she knew she would follow him. And that was all he needed to know.

_Bang._

There was a night where it rained. It rained too much to be safe. Needless to say, she was rained in. But then so was her superior. The two sat in silence, as if neither dared to break it. The sounds of the pitter patter of rain berated the window. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Why do you stay?"

She couldn't understand what that question implied. It could've just implied something like _'why don't you go home?' _But she knew well enough that was not his meaning.It was like he was trying to force her out.

"It's raining."

He shifted in his chair. "You could walk."

"Yes. But I'd rather not. Why don't you go home?"

She was one of the few people that could speak like this to him without any consequences. But it wasn't surprising. She could scare the living daylights out of people, including the colonel.

"I don't know."

He hardly ever said anything like that. His voice had taken on a nostalgic tone. He was remembering something. Perhaps something too painful to be remembered regularly. He whispered something. Something directed at himself but he seemed to want to ask her.

"Why do you stay?"

Bang.

The shot brought her back from her reminiscence. She reloaded her gun as she made her way to the next cubicle. That day was two weeks ago. She never answered his question. The rest of that night was spent in silence. She fell asleep. He apparently had not. It was easy to tell. His eyes were dark and sunken.

Bang.

She closed her eyes. That man was also an idiot. He slept at the most inappropriate times and stayed awake at the most inappropriate times. The man didn't seem to take care of his health very well either. He could hide it but she would always know when he was ill. Those were the days when he slept in the office more often than normal. How he recovered was a mystery she could never solve.

Bang.

The two of them spoke little to each other. But there were some occasions where they spoke more. That was usually when he had to work late and she would stay until he finished. He always dismissed her but she'd never listen. Plus he always gave up after the first five tries.

The two would share stories. Short ones of their youth. They were both quite young but they were adults and they both held high responsibilities. Their stories consisted of humor to lighten the mood around the office. She would tell him stories of her scaring her friends and he told her stories of Hughes's many failed childish plans and how he always ended up in them.

That was usually when both forgot about their duties for a while and just relaxed in the presence of each other's company. And occasionally Hughes would come in and irritate the hell out of the colonel and yet amuse him at the same time.

Bang.

But not and never anymore. She remembered when her superior fell silent when he discovered Hughes dead in the telephone booth. He had a blank expression. Like he couldn't believe what he saw, hoping his eyes deceived him. She hoped the same. But both knew that wasn't possible.

The funeral was held the next morning. The sky was covered with clouds. Riza watched Elysia Hughes cry her heart out. She didn't understand yet. And she shouldn't have had to yet. Gracia Hughes pulled her daughter into a hug as she cried. Even Major Armstrong wept at the embrace. She looked at her superior. He didn't cry. Not even a bit.

Bang.

To others, it would've seemed that he didn't care. But she knew better. Hughes was his best friend. Even when Roy cursed him for being a fool, she knew he didn't even believe his words. He made a comment about the rain and pulled his hat down. She could see tears on the part of his face she could see. That was the first time she had ever seen him show emotion since Ishvar.

Bang.

She herself couldn't shed tears. She wanted to but it was hard. She only shed tears later that same night. It was different for her. She felt sad but she had long ago learned to control her tears. But it appeared that _this_ broke her barrier, even if for only a little while.

Bang.

The colonel eventually went back to his normal self. Or as normal as he could pretend to be. He still went on dates which angered Hawkeye. She always reminded herself that her job was to protect and help him, nothing more. She repeated that often. It was like a mantra. She couldn't get close to him. Not because he didn't allow it but because _she_ couldn't allow it.

This is ridiculous…Why am I even thinking about this?

She stopped. She had pulled the trigger more than she could keep count. The overseer of the shooting range was wide-eyed as well as wide-mouthed. She had shot down all the targets in the range. And since those bullets were made to pierce through many things, it pierced through the targets and hit the concrete walls too. She had nearly destroyed the shooting range.

After apologizing, she went to her locker and pulled out her things before going to the door. It was late. She had been shooting for an hour. Even shooting was a tiring sport.

Her thoughts wandered over to her subject of the night. Her superior and herself kept things strictly professional. Neither could afford to lose sight of their duties. And the colonel could not lose sight of his goal. Nothing could ever happen between them.

Nothing…

She wasn't even sure if he would return her feelings if she ever confessed. Maybe he would break her heart by rejection. It was better that he didn't know. And it was better for herself that he didn't know. There would be less pain involved.

But I'm already hurting…

She was about to turn a corner when she suddenly stopped. The man in front her stopped as well. Both were too surprised to move. A silence swept between them as they continued to stare in shock.

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I noticed the lack of this pairing in this section. For some reason, I've taken a liking to this pairing. I usually don't care about pairings. This is my first time trying to write romance. But surprisingly, this came easy. This is Hawkeye's. Next is Roy's. If someone read this, tell me what you think of my attempt. 


	2. Roy and the opera house

Disclaimer: I don't own full metal alchemist and that includes any of the characters mentioned here.

Notes: Thanks to the people who reviewed! Your comments were helpful. And the cookie was nice. It's nice to know I didn't blunder on Hawkeye. As you know, the spotlight's now on Roy. Hopefully, I didn't mess him up.

I now present the second installment.

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Crack.

Roy Mustang turned his neck to the side and sighed contently when he heard the crack of his bones. He was bored. Dead bored. His date was leaning comfortably against his left shoulder. Their date was taking place at the theater. But tonight the theater was an opera house. The colonel was too dazed to realize what the tickets were for and now he regretted not looking at them.

His date was currently enraptured in the Shakespearian style of the play. No surprise since it was Macbeth, a tale of royal blood. That's all he really knew. He wasn't one for plays. Especially not ones that involved singing out of nowhere. This was the opera version of Macbeth. And he hated it. The singers were only making his headache worse.

Wasn't the performance supposed to end when the fat lady sings? Roy had seen many fat ladies sing and the performance still didn't end. He covered his mouth while he yawned. This was getting to him. The florist was still caught up in the singing. He decided to wait for her sake. He wasn't a man without manners. Besides, he only had…An hour left.

Wonderful…

He excused himself to his date, not that she was even listening, and walked out of the theater to the men's room. He turned to the mirror and stared at his reflection. Donned in his usual civilian black coat and his military uniform, he appeared quite admirable and handsome. If anyone were to look closer, they would've seen the faint flush on his cheeks. He was ill again. Actually quite prone to fevers.

_Third time this month..._

He turned on the faucet and let the freezing water run through his hands. He rubbed his face roughly with his wet hands and pushed back his bangs. He hardly looked any different with his bangs over his head. Anyone could mistake that flush on his face to be a blush of pleasure. He hated it. He wasn't in love. It was irritating to have people mistake an illness for something more.

"Hmm…"

Well, he was in love. In a way. There was only one problem; she was the lieutenant. His subordinate. But he was more than sure she didn't cause him to feel so hot as to make him have a full blown fever out of nowhere. He knew it himself; he was horrible when it came to his health. He'd ignore every alarm in his body and even when he ended up like this he still didn't admit anything. At least not to people.

Slam.

The restroom door opened and shut. He didn't look at the person that entered. He had his eyes closed. He could care less about that person. He heard some disturbing sounds and decided that they would interrupt his train of thought. He walked out onto the sidewalk for a more quiet air.

He never admitted things to people unless it was absolutely necessary. But he admitted a lot to himself. He had no one else to admit anything to. He admitted to being a stubborn idiot for getting sick. He admitted he didn't want to go on a date. He admitted he loved only one person but that person was too far and yet too close as well.

Che…

He scoffed inwardly. He didn't like people getting close. Someone would always get hurt. He let Hughes get too close. And look what happened to him. He told Hughes things he never said to anybody else. And while the Lieutenant Colonel was irritating at many times, he was also his best friend. Hughes even took care of his health and it was amazing he had the patience to deal with the flame alchemist.

That's why it came as a shock to find him dead. He was still haunted by that image of Hughes corpse in the telephone booth, blood everywhere and phone hanging by the wire. He had nightmares about that still. And in the beginning, he blamed himself. Blamed himself for not being more involved in things. If he had, he would've been able to punch and talk to his best friend again right now. He blamed himself for letting it happen.

The funeral was painful. His stomach constricted as they buried Hughes. His heart constricted when he heard his best friend's daughter. Her words said more than anybody else could have. Maes Hughes was a busy man. He had a lot of work to do. It hurt to hear Elysia yelling 'papa, papa!' She was too young to know death. Much too young.

Everyone left after the ceremony. But he didn't. He couldn't. Not yet. _She _was standing behind him. Her presence was comforting. Even as he cursed his friend, she had stayed next to him. Why, he didn't know. Perhaps she thought it was her job. She told him Hughes didn't tell him about anything that involved the Elric brothers because he wanted him to head to the to the top without any worries. He tended to worry too much when it came to those two. He couldn't take it. He pulled his hat down. Made a comment about the rain to draw _her _attention away. He didn't know whether or not it worked. He supposed it hadn't. Tears silently slid down his face. He didn't want to stop them.

The Lieutenant was comforting sometimes. But sometimes she was just…plain scary. Especially when he didn't do his work until the last minute. Literally. She was the most terrifying person he'd ever met. He only let her boss him around and talk back because she was just too…Horrifying.

But she was also the most beautiful person he'd ever met. She looked graceful with her hair down. But she had to tie it up in that infuriating bun. Maybe it got in the way of her work. He hadn't even realized her hair had grown until she came in with her hair down one day. That was also the same night they were rained in. He asked some unusual things but she never questioned why. He almost wished she had. He had a nagging question that he couldn't quite get out with the correct intent.

He remembered the first day they met. That day was under some questioning circumstances. But she didn't go any deeper into it. Instead, she had woken him up. They met in Ishvar.

He killed two innocent doctors in Ishvar. They did nothing but help people. And he was ordered by Brigadier General Basque Gran to kill them. After, he even planned on killing himself. The gun shook so much under his chin. He was going to pull it when Marco stopped him. Marco was leaving. Running away. He blamed himself for not helping the doctors when he could for he was also a doctor. Marco told him he was only following orders. It was nothing worth dying over.

Later in the tent, he reconsidered the idea on the top bunk. This time he held it to his temple. He hadn't pulled the trigger yet. He didn't know why. It was simple. Pull and after a few seconds of pain everything would go black. But he couldn't do it. He was trembling like mad. His grip was slipping.

And then the tent flapped open. _She_ was standing there. A second later, she knocked the gun away and yanked him down. Not that either of those was hard to do. He was shaking too much to notice. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment and then she slapped him. He recalled the conversation perfectly. Especially the last words.

'Then do something about it.'

The words him harder than any slap could've. He could tell she had finally realized what she'd done and he stopped her with two simple words before she could start. They came out hoarse but soft. He was hoping she heard him.

'Thank you.' He forced himself to stop shaking.

He could tell she heard. She was smiling.

Her smile was beautiful. It was a shame she never smiled often enough. Her smile made him feel hot but he controlled the feeling on his face, making sure he didn't have a tinge of red. The perfect red lips curved upwards into a sweet, sincere smile. She never did it often. Only on very rare times.

Her movement was always graceful. It was like watching an angel dance to the music of a harp. But he knew he was exaggerating. Still, that was what she was to him. An angel. As corny and cliché it was, nothing could've described her better to him.

Their work kept them apart. He had a goal to achieve and she worked to bring him upwards. He wondered what her reaction would be if he ever told her his true feelings. He imagined a perfect image of rejection and then simply hearing his heart shatter to the ground. It was painful just to think about.

Why would she love an idiot like him? It didn't make sense. And he decided not to try. Not to say anything. It would be better for both of them. He would not have to go through more pain and she wouldn't have to feel obligated in any way.

But why does it hurt more now?

At this time, he'd entered the theater again. The play was almost over and he'd returned just in time to see another fat lady singing. Surely it would end now? His date turned to him.

"Where were you?"

"I was in the restroom."

"You missed a great play."

"I'm sure."

They soon left afterwards. He escorted her home as they walked. When she asked to see him again, he couldn't get the words correctly out of his mouth. So he just blurted out the truth like an idiot.

"I love someone else."

The girl stared and glared. "You had a girlfriend and you didn't tell me?"

"She's not exactly a girlfriend…"

"Oh, I get it. You love her but you haven't told her."

He nodded, feeling embarrassed. Was he that easy to read right now? The florist, Grace, would probably slap him or something. It was natural to get hurt after blabbing something like that out of nowhere on the end of a date. One of the worst ways to end a date and he had to do it.

"You should tell her."

That was not what he expected. He turned his head up and Grace was smiling. Genuinely smiling.

"You heard me. Tell her. You'll regret it if you don't."

"I expected you to slap me…"

"Why? Truthfully, you should've just told me. I used to have the same problem. And I'm telling you from experience that you'll regret it if you don't tell her."

"I'm afraid…"

"To get rejected? Don't worry. If you don't say anything, it'll be worse. At least this way, you can get the feelings off your chest. I felt better when I told the guy I used to like that I liked him. But he rejected me. It didn't matter though. At least I got it out."

His blush added to the already faint tinge on his cheeks. He was getting advice from a date. At least she didn't blame him for anything. "Thank you."

The girl shrugged. "Your welcome. By the way, could you give this to that blonde guy with the cigarette? He forgot it." She handed him a wallet which he took and bade the woman good night.

The florist was right. If he didn't say anything, he'd only make it worse for himself. At least if he told her, he would know whether or not she was the one. He swallowed. He felt dazed. Tonight was definitely not a good night to go out. And _she_ had to dump all that work on him before his date. All that work made his head pound against his skull harder.

He didn't know when he would tell her. Preferably a time where he could think clearly. Fevers tended to fog the mind. Being the flame alchemist was probably not a good thing. It felt like his flames were trying to cook him from the inside. And yet he felt cold on the outside. He was probably going to fall flat on his face if he didn't get home quick.

Just a few more blocks…

He was about to turn the corner of third and fifth when suddenly he stopped. He was about to walk straight into someone. He was about to excuse himself when he saw whom that someone was. The two stared at each other without moving. Each as surprised as the other. They continued to stand in stunned silence.

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I don't think the third will be up tomorrow. Maybe the day after tomorrow. It all depends on the time. I don't want to rush this because rushed things turn out worse than something thought out clearly.


	3. Riza and Roy

Disclaimer: I do not own Full metal alchemist. Nor do I want to. Arakawa and Bones are doing just fine. The American anime version belongs to Funimation and hopefully their dub will turn out decent.

Notes: It's been a while. I had trouble figuring out some scenes. Most of which were either cliché or too weird. So I had to rewrite the thing over and over to keep it as in character as possible. And when I did finish this, the site didn't let me log in until now. The formatting for this site is not to my liking so that's why there are percent signs.

Review replies:

Jyoong-gan: Oops. I apparently didn't check thoroughly. Sorry.

Lady Jadealiya: I may have pulled it off for the past two but it's hard to say for this chapter.

not applicable: I don't plan on not writing this pairing. If this series's popularity spreads enough to cause a mass amount of fanfictions, you'll probably get tired of this pairing. I hope that mass thing doesn't happen...

Now I present the third and last installment.

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Riza Hawkeye wondered vaguely if this coincidental meeting was her punishment for imagining that the targets in the shooting range were her superior. She was furious about his sudden vigor toward his work at the wrong time and was even more infuriated when he had finished in time for his date. Why did her superior do things at the most unusual times?

Roy Mustang wondered vaguely if this was his chance to tell her his feelings. Then again, it may not have been. The aura radiating off of the lieutenant was interpreted as anger to him. If she was angry, he probably had something to do with it. Or maybe not. He could only hope for the latter. The former would mean he would die before actually saying anything. Why did she have to be so serious all the time?

Riza began to open her mouth but then found the words caught in her mouth. She cleared her throat slightly in embarrassment. But before she could say anything, he intervened with a usual greeting.

"Good evening, Lieutenant Hawkeye."

"Good evening sir. Were you just coming from your date?"

Roy kept a neutral expression. He was surprised but was damned if she knew it. Riza on the other hand, was fuming. She said something she shouldn't have but she had to anyway.

"Pardon me sir, I-"

"Actually I was. And I was a little glad it was over. We were at an opera house. My ears are still ringing."

His voice was calm with a hint of exhaustion. He was indeed telling the truth. His ears were still slightly ringing. Opera was never his thing. She knew that. She knew that very well.

__

Actually, she knows a lot about me…

"Lieutenant, how about accompanying me for a little stroll?" He wanted to know her. At least on a differently level from work.

She felt her head nod automatically as they both walked casually in the direction of her house. She couldn't say no. Well, she could. But this time, she didn't want to. It was only a walk. What harm would it do?

"Lieutenant, why don't you take days off?"

That was sudden. "I do. Just not often."

"Why not?"

"I only do so when I feel the need to like to buy groceries."

"Do you know what resting is, lieutenant?"

"Of course. But why are you asking me this? It should be the other way around."

"What do you mean?"

"Your idea of resting is sleeping in the office."

"But it's resting."

"Yes but in a work area."

"At least I get the work done."

"Yes…At the last minute. And you occasionally stay late as well. It's not good for your health."

"What's not good for my health?"

"Not sleeping at the appropriate time. And your habits of eating the most unusual things."

"Eating what? I only eat what's in the cafeteria."

"Precisely. I can't believe you ate that sandwich today. I swear the contents expired long ago. No one else dared to eat it and everyone stared when you did."

"I hadn't noticed. Besides, it looked fine."

"That's the problem. Your idea of fine is different from others."

"Not all people are as neat as you."

"Yes. But at least they clean their houses every so often."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you live in a pigsty."

"How would you know? You've never been to my so-called pigsty."

"I have. Don't you remember? You called in sick and I brought the papers to you."

"Oh yes. You couldn't stop sneezing."

"Blame the dust. It was everywhere."

"No it wasn't. And then you started spring cleaning a little early. Just in the wrong apartment."

"On the contrary, it was the right apartment. I don't understand how you can live in that dustbin."

"You get used to it after a while."

"Exactly why it's bad for your health."

This was enlightening. Not only was he getting to know Hawkeye more on another level, but Roy had found the cause of his illnesses. Not sleeping regularly, eating bad cafeteria food, and dust. While it all sounded ridiculous, he wasn't one to judge.

Their conversation led them to Riza's doorstep. They stood on the steps awkwardly as if pondering what to do next. Roy coughed slightly more because of his burning forehead than embarrassment. Riza pushed open the door and they resumed their silence.

"Do you want to come in, colonel? It's still a bit early."

"Uh, sure."

Roy stepped into her living room and noted a few things. Like how neat and clean everything was. He had no doubt that the rest of her house was no different. He suddenly began to wonder exactly how far from clean his own apartment was.

"Would you like something to drink, colonel?"

Riza suppressed a laugh at the sight of her superior's dumbfounded expression. It was priceless. Perhaps he'd been too shocked by her hygienic house. It was definitely more habitable than that dustbin he called an apartment.

"Yes. Water's fine."

She made her way to the kitchen, leaving the colonel standing in the living room like an idiot. Roy was indeed surprised at his lieutenant's sense of hygiene but was bitten out of his thoughts. Literally. He winced and looked down at a small pup. The pup's jaw was currently locked on Roy's palm.

"Hello Black Hayate."

The pup let go and barked playfully. Roy studied his hand. The pup knew far better than to actually hurt people unless it involved his mistress's safety. She disciplined strictly, after all. Faint marks were still visible but nothing too bad. He crouched down and scratched behind the dog's ears. The pup wagged his tail energetically.

Meanwhile, Riza was in the kitchen brewing coffee. She could hear her loyal canine barking in the living room and she realized he must've discovered the fool of a colonel.

She would never insult her superior like that to his face unless he really deserved it at that moment. She often nearly did insult him many times but thought better of it when she saw the top of his head bobbing up and down from behind stacks of paperwork. She felt sorry for him every time the stacks built up enough to hide him from view. But she always made sure he heard the cock of her gun whenever he was only an inch from falling into dreamland.

The colonel had to finish his work even at the cost of a single night's sleep. It was ultimately his fault. He never took the time to actually do the work when he had the chance. And it was ultimately her own job to make sure he finished. Even if she had to shoot him. A little scare wouldn't do him any harm.

A bullet near the head and he would automatically start writing as if possessed.

That is, if his heart hasn't stopped from shock.

Riza Hawkeye curved her lips up in a serene smile.

She poured water from a filter into a cup and spun around to pour coffee into one of her morning mugs. She was in the need of caffeine to ease her nerves at the moment. She entwined her fingers around the handle and began to walk into the living room.

"Black Hayate, sit."

Said dog obeyed the voice emitting from beside Roy and sat while thumping his tail on the carpet. Roy looked up to find Riza standing next to him holding two cups. He took the cup of clear liquid gratefully and gulped the content through closed eyes. He peered at Hawkeye from behind the cup. Her questioning gaze was tinged with suspicion. He made no attempt to explain. This had been going on all day.

Riza took the cup and her expression remained the same even as she directed him to the bathroom upstairs. Mustang was acting…suspiciously. Not funny at all. Rather disturbing. He'd been acting unusual all day. Besides his worse than normal napping habits he was also drinking large amounts of water almost by the pint. It was a wonder to witness him making many bathroom trips by the hour.

Even the dubbed dunces in the office realized something was off. And it usually took a lot for them to realize something was disturbed if it wasn't extremely important. Havoc even questioned Mustang about his abnormal need for cold liquids. Never did he get an answer. At least not a straight or coherent one. The closest answer he gave that related to anything was _"I was thirsty from waking up."_

Wait. Something clicked in Riza's mind as she took a sip of the caffeine content. Mustang had been sleeping much longer than usual today. He even found time to sleep before his date after he finished the exaggerated mountain of paperwork she had lugged onto his desk. Judging by his sleeping habits, she came to a nearly ridiculous yet plausible conclusion.

Her superior was ill. Now the only was problem with this conclusion was what he was ill with. She decided to find out.

Roy Mustang had no idea of his subordinate's thoughts nor the conclusion she came up with or how accurate it actually was. He was occupied with peering at himself through the mirror. He rubbed a finger on the bottom of his eye socket. He was exhausted. Bags were starting to appear under his eyes. Not an overall good sign. All thanks to all the paperwork that kept him busy for the past week.

Being ill did not have many advantages either. He could sleep longer but that wasn't the case as he was in the military and had not bothered to take sick leave or even call it in. And he didn't want the molehill of papers on his desk to become a mountain when he came back. Don't make a mountain out of a molehill. There were plenty of ways in which that saying could be interpreted.

He turned on the faucet and let the water run through his hands before pushing back his bangs. He yawned and stretched freely without having to worry about being seen. It was considered rude to do that in front of formal people.

He made his way out of the bathroom. He turned around and nearly fell back out of shock. When did Hawkeye get up there so quick?

"Sir, is something wrong?"

Roy shook his head and regained his composure. They were awfully close. Actually it wasn't awful at all. But they were a little too close for comfort. His body only inches away from hers. He'd been close to her many times but this was the first time he'd actually noticed.

Riza noticed the distance between them. It made it easier for her to look at Mustang's face. She noticed the faint tinge of red running across his cheeks. It could be interpreted as a blush. They were rather close. Then again it could be a flush caused by…Was he drunk? No, there was no scent of alcohol.

She hoped vigorously in her mind that he wouldn't be angered by what she was about to do. She wanted to find out for sure and this was the only way. After another few moments of silence, she suddenly wrapped one of her hands around her superior's collar and pulled him down. His forehead collided with her other open palm and the sound of a light smack echoed around them.

On many other occasions, Roy would've protested to having his head yanked down and then being half-slapped on the forehead. Especially when he was now practically bowing. But now he didn't dare move as he felt her fingers brushing his forehead. Her fingers lightly intertwined with his damp bangs. Her skin was cool against his own. His eyes closed a little, half-lidded with comfort.

She confirmed it. The flush was caused by a fever. But even though she came to something decisive, she didn't let go. Her fingers were brushing over his forehead and a little past the hairline. His hair felt soft under her fingers. She was forced to pull away however, when she realized how awkward their position was.

Roy sighed as his spine relaxed in it's straight position. He didn't want to become hunchbacked. He was disappointed when the cool touch moved away, however.

"Sorry, sir. I just wanted to make sure of something."

"And what would that be, lieutenant?"

"You have a fever."

Roy's lips curved crookedly into a smirk. He was caught. "Ah, excellent deduction as always. Yes, I am. I was beginning to wonder when someone would find out."

"Not that it's any of my business, sir, but why are you walking around with a full-blown fever?"

"It's not nice to keep a lady waiting. I did not want to cancel the date. And I wasn't about to let my paperwork pile up like mad. I made that mistake last time and I wasn't about to repeat it."

Riza shook her head and suddenly began to wonder if Mustang would even make it home without fainting. Probably but she didn't exactly want to risk it. Not with everything that's been going on lately. There had been many mysterious deaths in central lately and she wasn't keen on letting Mustang being another.

Roy suddenly found himself being dragged by his right wrist across the hall and into his lieutenant's bedroom. Hawkeye turned around and pushed him onto a bed. Roy spoke before his words were caught.

"What's the meaning of this, lieutenant?"

"Your staying for the night."

"Why?"

"There have been mysterious dealings lately."

"Ah, those. You don't trust me to get home safely?"

"No offense, sir, but I don't."

"That's nice of you but I can get home without dying."

"Do you feel dizzy?"

"What? Yes, but that's not-"

"Lie down."

"Wha-"

Before Roy could even finish a word, Hawkeye had effectively pushed him onto the bed. Struggling was no use at this rate. Hawkeye was either stronger than he thought or he was losing strength from being dazed.

"Stay there. I'll be back in a minute."

Roy turned his lips up in a small pout. He felt like a child. He was being mothered by his lieutenant. Then again, this wasn't the first time.

Riza came back holding half a bottle of a deep red liquid. Was she going to make him drink blood? He suddenly wondered what type it was. O? AB?

"What is it?"

"It's called medicine, colonel."

So it wasn't blood. "I drink whole thing?"

"No. Here."

"A spoon?"

"Yes." She poured the liquid up to the brim of the spoon and held it in front of Mustang's face.

"I'm not drinking that."

"You'll heal faster."

"Actually, I feel fine. I'll be going now."

Riza felt a vein pop against her temple. She shoved the spoon into his mouth, causing him to choke.

"You cough didn't ha- cough -ve to do cough that!"

"Go to sleep. This medicine causes drowsiness."

Roy lay down on his own this time after hacking and coughing. Riza made her way out of the room and down the stairs. Were all men this stubborn and infuriating or was it just this one?

She set the bottle back into a cabinet and washed the spoon. She curled up on the couch in her living room as she picked up her reading material. She could at least catch up on her reading before she fell asleep.

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Roy Mustang awoke after a long nightmare that probably only lasted 15 seconds in reality. His mouth tasted faintly of artificial cherry; most likely it was that medicine Hawkeye most literally shoved down his throat.

__

Riza…

He pushed his arm up to his face, trying to wipe away the sweat. As the sweat soaked through the cloth so that it touched his skin, he realized something was missing. He sat up and took a closer look at his profile. His coat was missing. And his military jacket was also gone.

With a blank expression on his face and a mouthful of a faint cherry taste, he made his way out the bedroom down the stairs. He nearly stepped on Black Hayate at the foot of the stairs when he noticed a small lump. Picking up the small pup, he walked to the living room.

A bundle of what appeared to be Riza Hawkeye was curled up on the corner of the couch. A book threatened to fall from her hands as she slept on peacefully, completely oblivious to a certain smirking Roy Mustang. On her shoulders was his missing clothing.

This certain colonel set down the sleeping Black Hayate and quietly edged to the couch. Riza had awoken when she felt a weight drop onto the seat beside her. An arm wrapped around her shoulders as she was pulled into it's hold. Being Riza Hawkeye, she was about to punch the owner of the arm when another arm wrapped itself around her waist. She recognized that arm.

Roy wondered how his lieutenant would react to this. They were in very close proximity of each other. Perhaps she would flip him to the floor. He didn't care. This was worth getting trounced for a bit. He buried his face into her shoulder. She was warm. Very warm. Very comfortable.

Riza continued to feign sleep. She could tell he was enjoying this. But she had to admit to herself that she enjoyed it too. She had no idea what possessed him to do this so suddenly but she didn't care. This was worth it, to have him feel, to touch, to hold. And no one else but her.

Roy pushed his head against her shoulder. He held her tightly yet gently, as if afraid of losing her but also understanding that she needs to breathe. Raising his head up, he gently planted his lips on her left cheek. It was soft but it was intentional. He didn't want to risk waking her.

Riza still continued her charade of sleep. She could hear his breath come out slowly and quietly, as if he was afraid to disturb her. Suddenly, his breath came closer. It tickled the skin on her left cheek. She felt semi-warm, soft flesh against her own cold cheek. The ghost of a kiss. She could feign no longer.

Roy lifted his head away but suddenly felt something collide against his lips. Another pair of lips. Slightly chapped but soft. Riza broke the kiss and lightly bit the bottom of his lip. Her crimson irises stared into his obsidian ones. Roy was, for the first time in his life, at a loss for words. But instead of blurting out indescribable nonsense, he leaned forward and smashed their lips together.

Riza was only too happy to comply. Her tongue entered and explored the cavern of his mouth. It tasted lightly of artificial cherry. The image of Roy coughing and choking came to mind. Her laughter was muffled by his tongue gently running through her mouth. His hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her into him. She could feel the warmth of his body against her own. She slipped her arms under his. He planted a path of kisses up and down her throat.

Something in Roy was telling him to stop. He didn't. He wanted this for a long time. Words just couldn't cut it anymore. Moans of pleasure flew to his ears and he answered by slipping his hand under her shirt. Her skin was soft. So soft. It felt different under his rough hands.

Riza stopped. It wasn't that she wasn't ready. She just wasn't sure. She could feel him stop and take his hands away. He had his head down. She began to wonder if she disappointed him. His comment made her stop thinking altogether.

"Your not ready, are you?"

"No, it's…I'm not sure about this…about us…"

Roy mustered up a weak grin. "Me neither."

Riza cleared her throat and spoke. "We are just co-workers. There can't be anything between us."

"Why is that?"

"Because we have things to focus on."

"Why can't we focus on this too?"

"Because you have a goal and I promised to work beside you."

"This doesn't change anything."

"How do you know?"

"I don't. But I'm willing to bet my life on it."

"I'm not sure…"

She turned so that her back was to him. This was what she had not wanted to happen. Their jobs would be affected and that wasn't needed. They had different jobs to do and focus on. This would only impair their judgment.

__

I can't do this…

He understood perfectly. He knew what this would do. But he was more than careful not to let it happen. Even if none of this had happened, that wouldn't mean he wouldn't worry about her when she was in danger. That would also cloud judgment. But during those times of impaired judgment, he would just do what his instincts told him to do. And that was exactly what he was about to do now.

Riza suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her own. She put up a hand to pry them off but stopped when she felt his head bury itself in her hair. His breathing came in heavily and deep. He didn't need words. His actions spoke for him.

She turned herself slightly and kissed him. Nothing extremely passionate. Just simple. And he didn't mind. He liked it. To prove it to her, he smiled. Not one of those trademark infuriating smirks of his but a real smile.

For the rest of the night, Riza lay comfortably in Roy's arms as he planted his head against the side of Riza's. His arms were wrapped around her protectively even when he finally fell asleep. Black Hayate sauntered over to the couch and leapt on it, resting his head on Roy's lap.

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The first lieutenant awoke the next morning lying in her bed. She sat up and looked around, hoping to find a certain fool of a colonel. Instead, she found Black Hayate barking happily on the floor.

Her heart dropped somewhat. Apparently, it was only a dream. But for some unexplainable reason, she could feel the ghost of a goodbye kiss on her cheek.

She arrived early at the office. The only other person was the colonel himself. He was busying himself with a cup of coffee as she came in. She avoided as much eye contact as possible. The colonel seemed disappointed for some reason. It was visible on his face. And he still appeared to be ill; his skin was pale.

Wait a minute. Ill? Wasn't that in her dream?

The colonel could not understand why the lieutenant was avoiding him. Had he done something wrong? Had he not done something? He couldn't understand it. So he tried to do something simple instead.

Riza saw him approach her out of the corner of her eye. She was about to move away when she felt herself being turned around. They gazed at each other for a moment before he gently planted his lips on hers. She was automatically taken aback. And then it clicked.

Roy stared at her with a blank expression. "Did I do something wrong?"

Riza found it difficult to conceive words. "No…Were you there yesterday?"

The colonel began to wonder if his lieutenant was lost her short-term memory. "Yes…I left early this morning. It took a while to carry you up the stairs. I was dizzy."

Riza instantly berated herself mentally for being so foolish. It wasn't a dream. It was real. And then her heart somersaulted gleefully. It was real!

Roy was caught off guard when a rush of blonde wrapped it's arms around him. He stood dumbfounded. His confused expression changed into a comfortable one. He hugged her back.

Late at night, Havoc was surprised to find that Mustang had finished all of his work on time and with ten minutes to spare. This was a new record especially for the colonel.

"Why the rush, colonel?"

A frown. "No reason. Just wanted to get home."

A smirk. "Your finally going to sleep at home?"

"Yes. By the way, the florist asked me to return this to you." Roy held out a wallet.

Havoc took it and checked the inside of it. A small piece of paper fell out. Havoc took hold of it and suddenly a blush crept up to his cheeks. "Maybe my luck's turning…"

Roy only smiled and rolled his eyes as he made his way out of the office. It was late. He turned on the familiar corner of third and fifth as he did the night before. He planned on going home but his plans automatically changed when Riza once again bumped into him. They were here once again. But something was noticeably different. This time there was no surprise. Just romantic familiarity.

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To be honest, I have no idea why it's longer than the other chapters. I tried not to make this story cliché but I don't think that worked well. It was harder trying to make them stay in character. I can't say I didn't try. Tell me what you think. 


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